From the Ashes
by pottertree
Summary: Post-war, Ginny Weasley has to learn to live again. But more than that, she has to learn who she really is.
1. Chapter 1: Broken and Burned

**Broken and Burned**

Harry watched Ron and Hermione go back into the castle. When they had disappeared behind the great oak doors, he turned to look at the rubble spread in front of him. Little by little, he began to nudge the pieces of rubble off the bridge and into the water below. It was cathartic to watch them sink, creating giant ripples where they fell. He came across a particularly large rock, and instead of using his wand, he bent down and began to push it. He used all his strength, reveling in the feeling. It was similar to digging Dobby's grave. It was similar to lifting Fred's lifeless form to move him to a safe place.

He stood back and watched this rock fall, panting slightly from the effort. He thought he could be content spending the rest of his life doing this rather than face what was inside of that castle.

Then he heard her. He could not mistake the sounds of her footsteps anywhere. He turned his head slightly to see her, standing at the other end of the bridge. Her long hair was pushed to one side of her neck, and her face was blotchy, puffy and soot covered. His eyes met hers and found the blazing look that he knew he had definitely fallen in love with.

But it wasn't like out of a book. She made no move to run and kiss him. Instead, she stood there, her eyes still locked on his. He straightened himself and began to walk to her. He would finally be able to touch her, to hold her, and to never let her go from his sight. He would no longer have to be noble or play the hero. He no longer had an entire wizarding world to save. He wasn't the chosen one. He had a beating heart, a soul that was entirely his own, and a girl to love.

He moved closer and saw a cut under her eye and a gash on her long neck, which was still slightly bleeding. He moved his hand up to brush her skin, and she made no move to stop him.

"Ginny, I—"

But he found that he could not get words out. She had begun to cry. The girl who had never succumbed to tears was suddenly drowning in them. And in that moment, he pulled her roughly to him. She buried her head in his chest and shook. A moment later, she withdrew as if he were fire to her touch and turned so that her back was to him. He knew she didn't want him to see her cry.

She still shook slightly, and when she spoke, her voice was uneven and thick with emotion.

"I thought you were dead," she said. Her voice came out harshly, angrily. He stared out onto the expanse of ruined castle. A ruined home. He found that he did not know what to say to her. He knew she was hurt, and most of the pain was from losing her brother. He settled on the truth.

"I had to. He had to believe I was dead." Harry suddenly felt that she was far away from him. Too far for his reach. "I can explain, Gin," he said softly. She didn't say anything for a while, and he stood there, wishing that she would. He wouldn't even mind if he turned around to yell at him, or hex him. Anything would be better than this silence. He had thought they would have hours, days, _years_ to talk.

Finally, she turned to look at him, her eyes soft and sad, no longer blazing. She took her hand in hers, and looked down at it, turning it around in her fingers, as if it wasn't real. He wanted to pull it away. His hands were dirty and grimy, but her touch felt nice. He watched her, still managing to smell that some, wonderful flowery smell as if the entire castle wasn't lying in shambles around them.

"I know that," she said quietly, "you don't have to explain. Let's just go in. Mum sent me in to get you. Everyone wants to see you."

He didn't want to, but just as the night Dumbledore had fallen – nearly a year ago – the soft pressure of Ginny' hand was leading him back to the castle.

* * *

Ginny reluctantly extricated herself form her mother's arms. She knew that her Mum needed to make sure that her remaining children were all present and accounted for. Molly Weasley looked down at her daughter, and sudden fear flitted across her features. "I'm just going down to find Ron," Ginny said, kissing her on the cheek. Her mother nodded absently, and patted her cheek clumsily.

Ginny knew that it had already been a week since the battle had ended, but the days and nights seemed to have blended together into one horrible nightmare. They had already buried all of their lost – including Fred, Lupin, and Tonks. She moved quietly though the castle. She was looking for her brother of course, but she was also looking for Harry. Harry, her Harry. Her chest tightened at the thought of him, because she inevitably thought of him dead in Hagrid's shaking arms. How had he been so convincing? How did he trick You-Know-Who? He told her that he needed to, that it was part of the plan, and she accepted that. But it still didn't explain how he managed it. He had offered to explain it to her, but she didn't push it. She felt that he didn't really want to confide in her, that he felt that he was obligated. She didn't want any information that way.

She fought her rising emotion and kept walking. The castle seemed so much smaller now – broken and burned. But still resilient. She still used the giant wooden doors to leave the castle, though the wall was blown away and opened straight onto the grounds. She hugged herself. There was a chill in the air, but her shivering had little to do with it.

She saw him. He was there, under the tree by the lake, sitting with her brother and Hermione.

Ginny was too far to make out their facial expressions, but she was sure they were talking about something important. Perhaps Harry was finally filling them in on how he managed to hoodwink You-Know-Who. After all, Ron and Hermione were just as devastated as she was when they spotted Hagrid carrying him onto the castle grounds. Her chest tightened again. She tried to walk towards them, but she was suddenly gripped with fear. It washed over her suddenly and unexpectedly. She hadn't spoken to him since their brief moment on the bridge.

But it was Harry. Just Harry. She was being silly. She loved him. It almost killed her last year how much she loved him. How much she ached to be around him. But there was something. Something that kept her wanting to stand in that spot and watch him from afar. She was scared of him. Scared of what he could do to her. She always prided in her strength. And he managed to destroy that delusion of herself fairly quickly.

There was more. He was older now. Not just his age – but, he seemed like he had lived many more lifetimes since she had last seen him. What if he had outgrown her?

Ginny instead walked in another direction – towards the freshly instated memorial for those who fought and died in this battle. She found her brother's name and sat down, staring at it. "Fred," she whispered, reaching her fingers out to touch his name, engraved in the white marble. His name was listed beside Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Dobby… Ginny's chest tightened again. It was perfect. He would've been proud beyond belief to have joined this list.

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned to see Dean Thomas standing a few paces behind her. She smiled at him, and he came forward to sit down next to her. "I haven't seen you in ages, Dean. I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, I've been on the run. Didn't know if my dad was a wizard or a muggle." He looked towards the memorial and frowned. "Are you okay?

"Not really," she said, "but I will be one of these days."

"He will want you to be happy, I'm sure," Dean said, nodding towards the memorial.

Ginny nodded. Dean looked a little awkward, but sat down next to her.

"Have you spoken to Harry?" Dean asked. She looked over at him curiously.

"A little," she said, shrugging, "Not too much. He – well, he has a lot of people he has to talk to."

Dean cleared his throat but said nothing. He put a comforting arm around Ginny and she leaned into him. She missed Dean. They had a lot of fights towards the end, but that was ages ago. She was comfortable with him, and she always had been. He was a great listener, and a nice person. Obviously, it was nothing like it had been with Harry. But it was still nice.

"Where's Seamus?" Ginny asked him. The last time she had seen him, he was setting one of those giant spiders on fire. And he wasn't among the fallen, so she assumed he was okay. She hoped he was okay.

"He went home to see his mum. But he'll be back."

"That's good," Ginny said. They sat that way for a while until Ginny felt her chest loosen slightly. She could breathe a little bit.

 **A/N: I know, I know, I've got two stories going at once. I've just been inspired lately! Check out Chasing Roses (ScoRose)! Hope you enjoy :) Leave a review if you so desire!**


	2. Chapter 2: In Shambles

**In Shambles**

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned to see Ron standing behind her and Dean, watching them with narrowed eyes. His ears were bright red. Her brother had been prone to a temper in the past few days. She removed herself from Dean, not because she was doing anything wrong, but because she was scared Ron might kill him if she didn't.

"Ron!" Dean said, standing up quickly. "Ron, how are you mate?" Dean walked up to Ron with his hand outstretched. "We lost each other after Shell Cottage." But Ron stood still, ignoring Dean's hand, still glaring at Ginny.

"Moved on, have you?" he spit.

"Not here, Ron, not now," Ginny said warily.

"Yeah? Not here? While you're snogging your ex-boyfriend, basically _abandoning_ Harry in his time of need? He could've walked up any minute and it would fucking _destroy_ him. And in front of Fred?"

Ginny felt tears of anger sting her eyes and her own temper flared, her wand sparking slightly. Dean looked supremely uncomfortable. "Er… I'm just going to go…"

"Yeah, Dean," Ron said, still glaring at his sister, "You should go."

He apparated. The wards had all been broken during the battle and hadn't been set back up. Ginny rounded on her brother, aware of her wand still sparking with her anger.

"How _dare_ you?" Ginny seethed, " _HOW DARE YOU?_ You should be ashamed of yourself for talking about Fred to get your way. Not that it's any of your damn business, but Dean and I were just talking, because we're still _friends_. And do you really want to get into talking about _abandoning_ harry?" She was screeching at this point and was aware that she probably resembled a veela post-transformation, but she was so angry. Ron had quickly gone from looking furious to looking terrified of his little sister.

"So you and Dean are…"

"Just friends," Ginny snapped, "not that it's any of your business," she repeated. But she had softened slightly, because Ron was looking guiltily towards Fred's grave.

"We shouldn't fight," he said, "that was my fault. I just – we've been through a lot. All of us. And I'm being…"

"An arse," Ginny finished. "A protective arse," she added, smiling slightly. "Of Harry."

"And you," he offered, "you two were good together."

Ginny didn't comment. How long were they even actually together to say definitively that they were, in fact, good together? Two months? Not even?

"Let's get back to the Great Hall. We're going home," Ron said. Ginny stared at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he said, grinning. She couldn't help the smile that came to her. The Burrow had been demolished in the wake of Death Eaters raiding the place for information on Ron and Harry. The Weasleys had been moving between safe houses since then, eventually staying with Muriel. But after the battle ended, Arthur Weasley and Charlie Weasley worked tirelessly to put it back together. "I know," Ron said, his grin widening, "we're going home."

Ginny took a last glance at the memorial before following Ron to the Great Hall. Her mother was standing in front of the fireplaces in Hogwarts, speaking with Professor McGonagall. Ginny couldn't help but admire her mother. She was so strong. She had lost a child, and Ginny knew that it must be a never-ending source of pain for her mother. But Molly Weasley also knew that her children needed her to be whole and strong. Especially George.

Ginny glanced towards George and frowned. He sat slumped at the Gryffindor table staring at the floor. He had been this way for the entire week. He had only shown any hint of emotion at Fred's funeral, where he had broken down into hysterical sobs, and it had taken the entire Weasley family to drag him from George's grave.

She walked over to him and sat down. He didn't acknowledge her presence, but she hadn't expected him to.

"Georgie," she said, taking his hand. He didn't pull away, but he didn't respond either. He just stared at the floor. Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder but quickly drew back. He reeked of firewhiskey. "Are you drunk?" she asked him, wrinkling her nose.

He shrugged, still not looking at her.

"George, please, we cannot lose you too," Ginny said, feeling lead in her stomach.

"Can I talk to him?"

Ginny looked up to see Angelina Johnson walking towards the table. George looked up at her for a moment. Ginny nodded and stood up, letting Angelina take her spot. She scanned the hall. There were very few people left. Dean stood in one corner, staring out of a broken window. He was going home soon to find his mother. He had hid her using several spells to keep her safe from any wizards. Percy, Bill, and Fleuur were sitting next to one another near to a fireplace, obviously ready to finally leave Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron were sitting nearby as well, talking in hushed tones.

Her eyes moved again, searching. She found Harry near the entrance of the Great Hall, standing alone. He ran a hand through his messy black hair. Most of his scars had been healed by Madam Pomfrey, but he still had the dark circles around his eyes. He looked exhausted. He must have not gotten any real rest in a year – maybe seventeen years. He was looking worriedly towards Molly Weasley, obviously uncomfortable about something.

Ginny steeled herself with a deep breath before walking over to him. He looked at her with surprise.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, with no preamble.

"Oh… er… nothing."

"Spit it out, Potter," Ginny said, raising her eyebrows. He cracked a small smile, but he was still obviously embarrassed.

"Am I… am I coming?" He glanced nervously towards Ginny's mother again, and then at the fireplace, before looking back at Ginny. She rolled her eyes when she understood.

"Harry are you ready dear?" Molly had spotted him and was strolling towards them, "the fireplaces are almost ready, Minerva just told me. Are you packed? Did you eat breakfast?" She started fussing over Harry, and Ginny saw a hint of relief in his face.

"Mrs. Wealsey, are you sure you want me to join you there? I can… I can stay here a bit longer. Or move into Grimmauld Place. I thought that maybe you would need some time alone…" but he trailed off at the look she was giving him. She had burst into tears and a bewildered Harry began to protest. "No, no! Don't cry! I can stay here, it's _really_ not a problem. I've got Kreacher and McGonagall…" but he was suddenly muffled by Molly's hug, and Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"You are silly, Harry," Molly said through her tears, "I cannot lose you too. You are my son, just as Ron, Percy, Bill, Charlie, George, and Fr-Fred… and you will stay with me at home where you belong."

* * *

It was early morning when Ginny had finally decided to stop trying to fall asleep. She glanced at the cot next to her, but Hermione wasn't in it. She must have fallen asleep at some point to not notice her leaving. She frowned, tied her hair up, and crept downstairs in her pajamas. She didn't want to wake anyone else.

Hermione sat at the breakfast table alone, a cup of tea sitting untouched in front of her.

"Hi," Ginny whispered. Hermione looked up at her and gave her a vague smile. Ginny sat down in the chair opposite. "Do you want me to make some breakfast?" she asked.

"No, no," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"What's wrong then?"

"It's been more than a week now, that we've been at the Burrow, and about two weeks since the battle," Hermione said, reaching for her tea cup. She took a sip before continuing. "I need to get my parents and bring them back from Australia."

"Well of course you do," Ginny agreed.

"But Ron doesn't want to let anyone out of his sight, you know how he's been." Hermione said, running a hand through her bushy hair. Ginny frowned.

"I'm sure he would understand this. It's something you need to do."

"I know he would understand." She paused, taking another sip, looking thoughtful. "You think he'd come with me?"

Ginny grinned. "I think that would be good for him. It would get him out of his head, and give you both some alone time. Plus, I'm sure you'll need some support. It can't be easy to find them and then to… bring them back." Hermione nodded.

"You and Harry could come," she said quietly, not meeting her friend's eyes. "If you wanted to…"

She was obviously fishing for some information on the state of Harry and Ginny's relationship. That's what everyone had been trying to do lately, but Ginny wasn't sure of what to tell anyone, because she wasn't sure of the answer. She had spent the last week avoiding Harry, which wasn't too hard, considering he spent all his time filling in the temporary minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, or at Hogwarts trying to help. He really only showed up for dinner, where he said very little. He was withdrawn and quiet, only talking to say thank you to her mother for a meal. Andromeda had tried to call a few times, attempting to let Harry meet his godson, but Harry had always found ways to postpone these meetings.

"I don't know where his head's at, so I don't know where we stand," Ginny said, "and he has too much on his mind to worry about it anyway. So I'm not pushed. We'll talk about it when we talk about it." Ginny was trying to avoid telling Hermione that she also didn't want to talk about it with Harry, because she hadn't made up her mind on what she wanted. It felt like blasphemy.

"Well okay, but you're going to have to talk about it sometime…" She looked at Ginny, her eyes sharp, "you don't even know what you want, do you?"

Ginny sighed. Hermione was too perceptive.

She waved her hand dismissively, trying to move past the painful subject. "You and Ron have finally realized what we all knew didn't you?" Hermione blushed, and Ginny applauded herself for changing the subject.

"Yes, I guess we did," she said, with a small giggle.

"What did it then? Did my brother finally get his foot out of his mouth long enough to admit that he likes you?"

"Sort of," Hermione said with a laugh.

Ginny smiled and reached across the table to take her hand, "I'm happy for you. Go to Australia with him. Go find your parents, and spend some time with them. You need it."

"Yeah," she said, sounding tired. She looked up at Ginny for a moment. "We heard about all you did at Hogwarts while we were gone. We were really proud of you and Luna and Neville. I wished I could be back at Hogwarts so we could help."

"Well we wished we were you with you, especially after hearing about the Ministry break in." Ginny suddenly grinned. "Did you really ride on the back of a dragon to escape Gringotts?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, laughing, "it sounds more impressive than it felt, I assure you. It was Harry's idea. About a million things could've gone wrong, but it somehow ended up okay."

"What are you both doing up?" Ginny's father asked, yawning and walking down the stairs. He was dressed in his Ministry robes.

"I'll make some breakfast, Dad," Ginny said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hi Mr. Weasley," she heard Hermione say as she turned on the stove and started taking out kipper, toast, eggs – a proper English breakfast for once. Her mother had been waking too late every day to make anything, not that anyone wanted anything. She made a decent enough dinner on a few nights, but it was mainly Fleur, Bill, Percy, and Ginny doing most of the cooking. Hermione had offered, but Ron had already mentioned to Ginny that cooking was not Hermione's greatest strength.

* * *

Hermione and Ron stood at the landing. Molly was not letting go of her youngest son for anything. She kept petting him and fixing his collar, until Bill pulled her away. "Mum, they have to go. You know that."

"I know," she said, "of course I know, I'm just so worried!"

"Mum," Ron said soothingly, "we'll be fine. We're going to find her parents, and we'll be back soon. I'll write whenever I can, I promise."

"It'll be okay, Molly," Arthur said to his wife, putting an arm around her.

"Have fun," Harry said, giving both of them a tight hug.

"Sure you don't want to come, mate?" Ron asked one last time. They had been asking Harry to come with them, but Harry had the good sense to decline, knowing they needed the time to themselves.

"Nah," he said, "I've got work to finish here. I'll meet your mum and dad when they get back here?" he asked, pointing this question to Hermione. She smiled through some tears and nodded. "It'll be fine," Harry said, giving Hermione's hand a squeeze, "you'll get them back."

Hermione nodded and gave Ginny a last hug, before taking the glowing blue mirror that Arthur Weasley had handed her. It was a Portkey which would take both of them to Sydney, Australia.

"Take care of yourself," Hermione whispered into Ginny's ear, "and him." They disappeared in a swirl, and a few moments later, the rest of the Weasleys went back inside. Ginny, however, wandered farther out to the garden and sat on a bench, looking down at the grass beneath her feet.

She didn't know what to do next, and she wasn't sure what she wanted. Honestly, she felt selfish even thinking about it. Her family, no matter how good they seemed, were in shambles. Percy hadn't forgiven himself and spent all his time cooking, cleaning, and endlessly apologizing. He had spent every free moment keeping Weasley Wizard Wheezes' open and running. Ginny wasn't sure she could forgive him just yet. George was still drunk all day, and even though Angelina visited every day, he didn't seem to be improving. Bill and Fleur had basically moved back to the Burrow. Charlie had stayed too, refusing to leave their mother. The only bright side was that Ginny's father had been promoted to Assistant Minister. This meant he was rarely home, but Ginny had a suspicion that he preferred it that way. Working constantly meant not having to think of Fred constantly.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Ginny?"

She didn't look up. She knew who it was and she knew that this was a conversation that would have happened sooner or later. She just wished it was later.


	3. Chapter 3: The Truth and Nothing But

"Are you alright?"

Ginny looked up and saw Harry's green eyes on hers and felt a blush rising. He looked handsome. He still had some battle scars, but he was healthier, and his black hair was shining. She ached to touch him, to kiss him.

"I'm okay," she said instead, scooting over so he could sit next to her. He did, and he smelled so strongly of broomstick polish and mint that she couldn't keep her thoughts straight. "How are you?"

"Fine. Happy that Hermione's finally going to see her parents again. I know it was worrying her for a while." He was staring out into the garden, and Ginny followed his lead. They sat for a while, before Harry chanced a glance at her.

"Gin, are we going to talk about this?"

"About what?" Ginny asked, stalling for time, still not looking at him. He took her hand his own, and she shivered. It had sent a shock through her. It was so warm and firm, and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I love you, Ginny," he said quietly, "I'm in love with you. And I want to be with you. I'm tired of not being with you."

Ginny looked down at her feet, heat rising to her cheeks. How long had she yearned to hear those words from him? How long had she wished to say them back? But she found that she could not speak now, when he was finally saying them to her.

"Say something," he said, "anything at all. You could hex me if you want," he offered.

Ginny cracked a tiny smile and met his eyes finally, sighing as she did so.

"Harry, I love you too," she said slowly. He broke into a smile and leaned closer to her, sending her nerves into a frenzy. His lips were so close to hers, she could have easily succumbed to him. The moment his lips touched hers, she found her strength and brought a hand up to stop him. He pulled away, frowning slightly.

"But?" he asked, after a moment.

"But I don't think I can be with you right now."

He let her hand go, and she saw his eyes harden. He looked away from her.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It's not you. Please know that it's not you."

"Did you meet someone?" Harry asked. "Did you get back together with Dean?"

"What—no – what made you think that?" Ginny asked, bewildered.

"Saw you on the map," Harry said, "sitting with Dean. Back at Hogwarts."

"We're just friends," Ginny said, trying to take his hand. He winced slightly, and she stopped trying. "And I didn't meet anyone else."

"Then what?" Harry demanded, turning to her.

"I'm just – I'm not ready. I think we're both not ready. We need some time to be young, you know? To figure out who we are, and what we want when there's not a war going on."

"I know what I want," Harry said, standing up suddenly. Ginny looked up at him and he glared down at her. "So if you need that stuff, it's fine, but don't say we. I know who I am, and I know what I want. Nothing has ever been clearer to me in my life."

"Okay," Ginny conceded, "I need to figure out who I am, and what I want."

She knew that her words hurt him. She saw them hurt him. He stared at her for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. I'm going to go. I've got some work to do."

Before she could say anything, he strode away from her and disappeared into the house.

Ginny stayed on the bench, hugging her knees and willing herself not to cry. She knew no one in the family would understand her decision. She knew that people would think she was crazy for letting the love of her life go. They would think she was cold-hearted and ruthless for not only letting the love of her life go, but the chosen one...

But she had her reasons.

And she had to act now, or it would all have been for nothing.

She stood up and felt a familiar wave of fresh determination.

The next morning found Ginny at the kitchen table, with a few editions of the Prophet laid out in front of her. A hot cup of tea sat steaming near her. Most of the pages were articles about the war. One headline read: Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, remains as elusive as ever.

Another: Muggleborns return en masse to the UK- Heartwarming scenes of families reunited.

But Ginny had pushed these parts of the paper away and was instead reading through the classifieds, a pen between her fingers. She had circled a few entries.

Among them,

 _Holyhead Harpies hold tryouts for the position of reserve Chaser on Saturday, July 15 at 8 am at the Harpy stadium! Special portkeys placed around England and Scotland for those who are interested. Last day to sign up is Friday, July 14 at noon. Must be 16 or older. Bring your broomstick and a good attitude!_

This was, of course, her dream tryout. She had circled a few others, but they were mainly minor league teams. The Harpies, with Captain Gwenog Jones, was the ultimate goal. She was on the verge of closing the paper and going out to the broomshed to start practicing when she saw another entry that drew her eyes.

 _The American National Quidditch league is looking for young, enthusiastic players to tryout for several positions in various cities throughout the United States of America! Positions are open in every major metro area, including New York, New Orleans, Chicago, and Boston. Tryouts will be held throughout the UK on special dates this summer. Must be 16 or older. Please send your owl to Manager Jerry Jenks for more information._

She stared at it.

America. New York? Chicago? Boston?

But to go so far away... she bit her lip, frowning at the ad. It wouldn't hurt to try out. She probably wouldn't even make it. She circled the words hurriedly, feeling as though she was doing something indecent and tucked the page into her pocket.

"What's up?" She turned to see Bill slump down into a seat across from her, pulling a part of the Prophet towards her. "What trash. Of course Harry is elusive, he's fucking tired of the press hounding him. Merlin – who wrote this – oh of course, Skeeter. Absolute trash."

He took a breath after his diatribe, glancing up to look at Ginny. She remained impassive.

"What's the pen for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um… I was looking through the classifieds." Ginny had always been unable to lie to Bill.

He laughed, "For what?"

"Quidditch tryouts."

Bill continued to grin, obviously under the impression that Ginny was joking. It faded quickly. "You're serious?"

"Very serious," she said, nodding. "Holyhead Harpies, some minor leagues, and the American National League."

"America?" he said, leaning towards her, his eyes wide, "you'd go so far away?"

"I probably won't make it. But I want to try."

Bill looked at her for a second, and Ginny was sure he would try to talk her out of it. But instead leaned back in his chair. "Okay."

"What?" Ginny asked, surprised, "you don't think I'll make it?"

Bill laughed again, "I'm not daft like George and Ron." There was an awkward silence. They both noticed the name he skipped over. He coughed and continued. "I've seen you play, Gin. You're definitely going to make it."

"And you're just going to say okay? Even though it might mean going across the pond? Not finishing school?"

"It's your life, Gin, and I'm not going to stop you from doing what you want," he shrugged, "plus I think you'd be a kick arse Quidditch player."

Ginny grinned at her brother. There was a reason he was her favorite. He reached over and squeezed her hand. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Bill spoke up again. "Can I ask you something, Gin?"

"Mmhm," Ginny responded, scratching Crookshanks' ears. He had leapt into her lap, purring softly.

"Why aren't you with Harry?"

"I don't know where Harry even is," Ginny responded shortly. She knew what he meant, but she wasn't sure she was ready to talk about it.

Bill watched her carefully, and spoke the next words as if he were defusing a bomb.

"I mean… why aren't you two together? Last year, you were miserable without him. I know, I saw, I wiped your tears. It's the way I feel about Fleur, and I know it's the way he feels about you."

Ginny shook her head, frowning, "I can't talk about this right now," she said.

Bill's eyes narrowed slightly, "did he say something to you?"

"No," Ginny said, sighing, "I just don't want to talk about Harry."

"Alright," Bill said, raising his arms in surrender, "but you know you can always talk to me."

"I know," Ginny said, offering a smile. "I'm just not ready."

"So I'm assuming this Quidditch stuff is a secret?"

"Yes please," Ginny said, in the sweet voice she reserved for Bill.

"Well, when you make the team, and you definitely will, a lot of people are going to be mad at you. A lot of people are going to tell you that you shouldn't do this. That it makes you a bad daughter and a bad sister and a bad student. People will be angry about you and Harry, and you will feel like you shouldn't do it after all."

"This is making me feel great, Bill—"

"But –" he said, cutting her off, "you have to remember that you have me on your side. You _always_ have me, Gin. No matter what you do. And for the record, I think when that time comes, you have to ignore them all and be selfish. You're young, you've got a whole life ahead of you, and you need to do what's best for you. Our family is very strong. You don't have to worry about hurting us."

"Bill," Ginny said gratefully, "you really get me."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Bill said, grinning, "since I know one of yours."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"Fleur and I, we want to start trying."

"Trying to what?"

Bill gave her a significant look. " _Trying_."

"For a baby?" Ginny said excitedly. Crookshanks jumped out of her lap, disgruntled. Bill looked around the kitchen in panic before leaning towards his sister, dropping his voice to a whisper. "A secret, Gin. Mum will never stop hounding me if she found out."

"Sorry, sorry," Ginny said in a whisper, "it's just so exciting!"

"I know," Bill said, "we figured since the war is over, that it's the right time, you know?"

"Absolutely it's the right time!" Ginny agreed excitedly.

"Anyway, that means that we need to move back to the cottage," he said. "Kind of hard to start trying while sleeping in your childhood room."

Ginny laughed, "Well, we'll miss you. I know I'll miss Fleur's cooking."

Bill grinned and yawned. "I'm sure we'll be here every weekend. But I'm going to the castle today, if you want to come. You can practice on the Hogwarts pitch, I'm sure it's much better than the orchard."

A few hours later, Ginny found herself standing in the middle of a deserted Hogwarts quidditch pitch, broom in one hand and a quaffle tucked under the other arm. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to use magic, and she wasn't sure how to practice being a chaser by herself.

She took off and threw the quaffle in the air, feeling silly as she caught it and flew towards the goal posts.

"Need some company?" someone called to her from below. She looked down and saw Dean and Seamus standing below, brooms in hand and grins on their faces. She flew down and landed beside them. "Bill told us you'd be out here playing. We've been here helping with clean up, and we need a break."

"I'll Keep!" Seamus said, flying up towards the hoops.

Dean watched his friend with a fond smile and Ginny watched Dean with interest. She remembered that smile very well. "You missed him right?"

Dean glanced back at her and flushed slightly. "Very much."

She gave him a knowing smile but didn't press him further. He'd confide in her if he wanted. "Oi! I'm not floating here for nothing!" Came Seamus's voice from the sky.


	4. Chapter 4: A Portkey Away

**Chapter 4: A Portkey Away**

"You're what?"

Ginny flinched at the look her mother was giving her.

"I'm trying out for the Harpies tomorrow," she repeated.

"But what about school?" her mother demanded.

"If I don't make it," Ginny said slowly, "then I'll go to school. But I'm trying out for the Harpies tomorrow. And then I'm trying out for a few other things."

"You need your education, Ginevra," Molly said, putting her dishtowel down on the table and placing a hand on her hip. She had been cooking a rather large dinner for the Weasley clan that evening as they were expecting a few extra guests. "There will be _time_ to try out for Quidditch teams."

"Mum, I'm really good," Ginny said, "and I think I have a future in Quidditch. Let me just try out."

"I know you're good," her mother said, "that's why I don't want you to try out. You're going to make the team and then you won't do your seventh year! And you won't have any N.E.W.T.s."

"Ron and Harry aren't going back!" Ginny protested.

"Ron is starting auror training as soon as he gets back from Australia, and so is Harry! And they're both of age!" her mother shot back. "And Hermione is going back to school."

"Hermione is going back because she wants to work for the ministry," Ginny said. "And I _don't_. And anyway, I'll be of age in August, so if you'd rather, I'll just wait till then to say I'm not going back!"

Molly Weasley glared at her daughter, who glared right back with equal fervor.

"Fine," Molly finally snapped, "do what you want." She snatched up her wand and pointed it at the steaming vegetables on the stovetop, not looking at her daughter.

Ginny stood at the kitchen door for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. When her mother kept cooking, she sighed and walked back up to her room.

* * *

Andromeda Tonks came to dinner that night, with a tiny Teddy in tow. Ginny watched from the doorway as Harry greeted them, awkwardly taking his godson into his arms for the first time. She couldn't help but smile as his mouth opened in surprise as the little baby's blue hair turned jet black upon looking at his godfather's face. Ginny moved forward to take Andromeda's coat, and Harry looked up from the baby to find her eyes, and his own were full of tears.

Ginny grasped his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. He gave her a watery smile and looked back towards the little boy, who was now waving his little fists in the air.

"He's beautiful," Harry said, staying still. Andromeda gave them both a fond smile and gave her coat to Ginny.

"Relax, Harry," she said, pushing his shoulders down from their stiff position. "You won't drop him." The three of them stood in the doorway, watching the tiny baby for a while, hearts full of happiness. "You're a natural."

He looked up at Andromeda. "I'm sorry I didn't come by before, Mrs. Tonks," he said quietly. "I just –" but Andromeda waved away his explanation before he could continue.

"You've both met each other now," she said, smiling. "Now, where's Molly? I'll see if I can help her." She walked off, leaving Harry looking shocked to be holding Teddy. He looked at Ginny.

"Come on," Ginny said, hanging Andromeda's coat on the rack. "Mum has a crib set up in the foyer for him." He gratefully followed her and placed Teddy down into the crib. They both stood at the railings and watched as he closed his eyes, his fist in his mouth.

"The Harpies," Harry stated in a whisper. Ginny glanced up and saw that he was watching her. "I heard you're trying out tomorrow."

"I – yes. And a few other leagues."

"Well, best of luck," Harry said, his green eyes piercing hers. "You're amazing. I'd be surprised if you didn't get in somewhere."

"Thanks," she said, blushing slightly.

He looked back down towards Teddy, and reached a hand in to touch his wrapped blanket. "I'll stay with him," Harry said, "thanks for showing me the crib."

"Sure," Ginny said, startled by his obvious dismissal. "I'll leave you to it, then. See you at dinner."

She left a room in her house feeling guilty for the second time in one day.

* * *

Ginny touched down onto the ground, feeling disappointed. She had not flown her best. She dropped the quaffle two times, and her nerves got the best of her for one of her goals and she threw it right to the keeper. She walked towards the stands where Bill sat, and gave him a grim smile.

"You did great," he said, smiling and scooting over so she could sit next to him.

"Liar," she said, sighing.

"No, seriously," he insisted. "You feel like shit now, but you outflew everyone in your group."

"Don't butter me up," Ginny said, shoving him, but her smile had returned. She glanced back towards the pitch, where another group of players were grouping up to try out. "Let's get out of here," she said to Bill. "I've got two other tryouts."

The last tryout was her best flying. She wished that she had scheduled the Harpies tryout for the end, because now that she was warmed up, she made very few mistakes. She touched down to the ground, and the balding stout man by the name of Jerry Jenks had run up to her, beaming broadly.

"Ginny Weasley!" he said, clapping his hands together. "You are _incredible!_ "

"Thanks," Ginny said, turning to Jenks and shaking his now outstretched hands.

"I just _love_ you! You can have your pick of the American teams. There's openings in Boston, in New Orleans, and in New York!" Ginny stepped back slightly, surprised. Jerry Jenks was a _very_ enthusiastic person.

"Wow, already? I don't have to come for a callback?"

"Please!" Jenks said, his voice high pitched, "you are incredible."

Ginny smiled. "Well, thank you, but can I have a week to think about it?"

"What is there to think about, my dear?" Jerry asked, surprised.

"Well, I know that Quadpot is much more of a priority in the States than Quidditch," Ginny said.

"That's where you'll _shine_ , darling!" Jenks said, his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. "You will not be a reserve chaser on an American team, you'll be the _star_!"

"Yes, well, there are other factors," Ginny said, "the States are very far away, and my family – well, I'm sure you know what a time we've had this past year."

"Yes," Jenks said, his face suddenly grave, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," he said, significantly. "We were all terrified for you in America."

"Is that why your country sent so much help?" Ginny asked, her temper flaring slightly.

"You are fierce, dear!" Jenks said, not letting her tone get to him, "and I agree with you. There was massive support throughout our magical congress to send aid, believe me! Our president wasn't – well, he's not our president any longer."

"Oh," Ginny said, after a moment, "well regardless, it's very far from me, and I really will need some time to think about, to discuss it with my family."

"Well, I do understand," he said, with slight disappointment. "Please let me know by the end of the week, if you can."

"I will," Ginny promised, shaking his hand.

* * *

When Ginny arrived home, it was to an incredible surprise. Hermione and Ron were seated at the kitchen table, broad smiles on their faces. Ginny dropped her broom on the threshold and ran to hug Hermione.

"Why are you always happier to see Harry and Hermione than me?" Ron asked, with a smile in his voice as Ginny turned to hug him next.

Ginny ignored him, turning back to Hermione, "Did you find them?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, grinning. "They're still in London, fixing up their flat and everything, and then they're coming to the Burrow tonight to see everyone."

"Are they okay?" Ginny asked.

"They… well, they were very angry," said Hermione, biting her lip. Ron grasped her hand and squeezed it. "But they're healthy. And that's all that matters."

"They're still angry?"

"Yes, but they're coming round," Ron said, "I think they get why Hermione had to do it."

"Well, I'm sure Dad will be _thrilled_ to have them for dinner," Ginny said, smiling. "Has Harry seen you?"

"Yeah, he just went upstairs to send an owl to Kingsley about starting our Auror training," Ron said.

"Where were _you_?" Hermione asked, glancing at the athletic robes Ginny was wearing and taking in her windswept red hair.

"Um… I was actually at some Quidditch tryouts."

" _What_?" Ron said, his eyes widening. "For what teams?"

"The Harpies first," Ginny said, "but don't get excited, I'm sure I bombed that one.

"Did you see –"

"No, I didn't see Gwenog Jones," Ginny cut him off, "she probably doesn't come to first round reserve chaser tryouts."

Ron looked disappointed but plowed on, "where else did you tryout?"

"A minor British league, and… err… an American league."

"An American league?" said a voice from the kitchen doorway. She turned to see Harry standing there, his hands in his pockets.

"Yes," Ginny said, feeling her ears turn red. "They're trying out for a few teams all over the country."

"Don't they play some mental game with a cauldron?" Ron asked.

"Well, they have some Quidditch too. It's not as popular, but I've already been offered a lead chaser position in New York, Boston, or New Orleans."

"But you'd be so far away," Ron said, frowning.

"It's only a portkey ride away," Ginny said quietly. "I'll come visit all the time."

Harry had come forward and sat next to Hermione, not looking at Ginny. Ron looked between the two of them suspiciously.

"Are you two –" he started to ask, but before he could finish, Hermione had elbowed him in the side. "Ouch, fine," Ron muttered. He stood up to get more tea before turning back to Ginny.

"It's still too far," he said, persisting.

"I didn't say yes yet," Ginny said angrily, "and why don't I get to live my life?"

"You're running away," Ron shot at her, "and that's not like you."

"You don't _know_ what I'm like," Ginny snapped at him. "You don't know the first fucking thing about it."

"Just give it a rest," Harry interceded, before Ron could continue. He looked Ginny dead in the eye before continuing. "She's a big girl, she can do what she wants."

"You're _okay_ with this?" Ron demanded. "You're okay with her being so far away?"

"It's not up to me," Harry said quietly, still watching Ginny, who found that she could return his gaze.

"I don't understand this," Ron said. He had stopped yelling, but he was shaking his head. "I'm happy that you made the team, Ginny, but you could just hold out and try again for the Harpies next year."

"Or I could start my career now," Ginny said, her voice almost pleading.

Ron stared at her. "We just lost our brother," he said.

"You're not _losing_ me," Ginny said, her chest heavy. "I'm just trying to work on my career."

"You're running away," Ron repeated. But at the look on his sister's face, he continued. "But that's your right. And I won't stop you."

* * *

Ginny stood at the International Portkey station two weeks later, her bags packed, and her family standing at the gates. Harry was there too, with a hoodie, a hat, and sunglasses on to cover his face. Hermione gave Ginny a long hug, kissing her on the cheek before pulling away. "You take care of yourself," she said, tearfully. "And don't worry about Ron. He'll stop being a prat eventually."

"I'll floo and write all the time," Ginny promised, before moving to hug the rest of her family in turn. She hugged Percy, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and… George. To George, she held on tightly. When she pulled away from him, he was grinning, and it was almost his normal grin.

"You give them hell over there," George said, his eyes twinkling. "I'll be watching all your games."

"You won't get them here," Ginny said, smiling.

"Do you even know me, sis?" he asked, laughing, "Nothing is impossible if you've got enough cunning." He winked and Ginny hugged him again.

"Please take care of yourself," she whispered. She felt his hand close around her hair, before letting go of her suddenly, turning away to hide his father hugged her next, and she felt him slip money into her jacket pocket before pulling away. Her mother cried hysterically all over her shirt, and Percy and Bill had to physically pull her away from her daughter. "You're visiting me in a few _weeks_ , Mum," Ginny said, fighting back her own tears.

"Still," she said, wiping her tears, "I'll miss you."

"Miss you more," Ginny said, giving her a last kiss. She looked towards Harry last, and her family walked a little farther away to give them some privacy.

"You look like you're about to rob this place," Ginny said, walking up to him and smiling. She saw him smile and slip off his sunglasses. His messy hair was peeking from his hoodie, and he squinted at her without his prescription glasses. He looked heartbreakingly handsome, and Ginny almost reconsidered all of her choices. "Just trying to avoid the press," he said, "trying to remain as 'elusive as ever'." Ginny laughed, and he reached out his arms and hugged her, putting as much meaning as he could into that embrace.

She shivered and hugged him harder, trying to capture his scent in her brain and hold onto it.

"If I had gotten onto the Harpies, as even a _reserve_ , I would stay," she said, pulling away to look at him, "I'm not running. I just want to play Quidditch." She wanted him to understand. She _needed_ him to understand.

"I know," Harry said, smiling slightly. He had a pained expression on his face, and it took a massive effort for Ginny to step away from him and turn towards the rest of her family to wave. They waved back and Ginny walked towards the Portkey station, where her Portkey to New Orleans, Louisiana awaited her.

" _Come back to me,_ " Harry whispered under his breath, as he watched the love of his life walk away from him.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you to everyone who has left feedback, followed and favorited this story! This story is near and dear to my heart, as I lost my own brother in a tragic way. I also left a relationship and went to a different country soon after my brother's death to pursue my dreams and many people thought that I was abandoning my family in a time of need. I even sometimes think that maybe I _was_ running away from my grief. But I don't think that I was pathetic or wrong. I think everyone grieves differently, and how a person reacts to grief can be unpredictable. I understand that everyone definitely has the right to their own opinions and ideas, especially when it comes to characters in a story! I have attempted to post this story before, and both this time and last time, I have received comments about how Ginny was too OOC and would never be so pathetic to abandon her family, whatever her superficial reasons might be. While this is definitely a valid opinion, I stopped writing the story last time because I was affected very much by those comments. This time, however, I will carry on. Because I identify very much with Ginny Weasley, and I don't think any response to grief is superficial. **

**Again, thank you so much for your reviews and I appreciate any kind of feedback, both positive and negative. I just felt that I had to clarify some of my decisions. Much love to everyone 3**


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